


The Whiteness of Lilies

by FalsettoSlumber



Category: Fingersmith - Sarah Waters
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 04:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalsettoSlumber/pseuds/FalsettoSlumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years have passed since the death of Susan's caretaker; many years have passed since both girls found out the truth of their lives. Their lives of lies. They have been reunited, but something is bothering Susan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Attention

It has been four years since the happenings. The sordid misdeeds that ripped my life apart, turning it into something that would be more suited to the rags this city deems appropriate to infiltrate its newspapers with. She stays by me still, and as each day passes on, I see her lose whatever resemblance to her previous life that she once held dear to her. But for three things; her eyes still squint through residence windows, her fingers still twitch in the direction of the locks in the dining hall cabinet, and her head turns at the mention of the past. Her past. My past.

Our past.

I sigh, and return my pen to its holder, watching the navy ink drip onto the dark wood stand. Dark from the dozens of ink drops that have fallen upon it, staining it the colour of the night sky. Staring blankly at my empty parchment, I pull my fingers through my hair, drawing it back from my face. I stand from my seat, tired, and yawn widely. I glance at the rows of books surrounding me, and glimpse a faint flashback of an old man sat in what is now my seat, dictating the words of sordid scholars from centuries past.

The books have moved on, as have we. Instead of inhabiting that soulless house in the country, too cold and unfeeling to be acknowledged as a home, we have taken up residence in a small townhouse apartment in the centre of aristocratic London. It is the usual fashionable type with a bedroom, richly decorated with the usual four poster, and intricate wallpaper of Chinese design, a sitting room, containing a dominating dresser and a parlour lounge chair, and various other little used rooms, such as an extensive library, barely touched kitchen, and an outdoor area, where Susan occasionally potters about, taking care of a flourishing flower, the type of which I am not yet certain.

Walking through the hallway, I can see Sue seated in the sitting room, a book on one knee, and a notebook balanced precariously on the other. She is writing something, and as I get closer, I can see her indecipherably attempting to write my name upon her paper. She still struggles with the idea of writing; I think this may stem from my past, but I can never be sure with her. She frowns as she scrawls out a barely recognisable 'm', and I kneel beside her, taking the book in my hands, and replacing it upon the low table in the centre of the room.

Taking her hands in mine, I sigh, stroking her fingers with my own, marvelling at the course, rough quality of them in comparison to my own navy stained but soft skinned digits. She leans forward and kisses my forehead, and I look to the books.

"I am sorry that you struggle so hard." I mutter, and she shrugs despondently, her hair bouncing forwards in front of her nose as it escapes from behind her ears.

"It's not that bad, really. Look at this." She reaches to the notebook, showing me the scribbles that presumably are my own name. She smiles proudly as she fingers the indentation of the lines, and I snort softly, taking the book away once more.

"There are more important things you could be expending your energy on, you know." I murmur, moving to kiss her neck softly, as I brush her hair back behind her ear once more. She tuts, and pushed me away, standing abruptly.

"I think I will go and tend to my lilies." She tells me, smiling to herself mischievously as she wanders in the direction of the yard. Scowling, I pick absentmindedly at a tear in the rug, before standing once more, and following her into the sheltered garden.

I see her standing before her flowers, their delicate white heads bobbing lazily in the light breeze that blows through the evening air. She looks so intent that I say nothing, merely moving slowly closer to her until I can loosely wrap my arm around her slender waist. She turns to me, fingers clasping one of the delicate flowers in her hand. Reaching up, she tucks the lily into my hair, and strokes my jaw line, almost reminiscent, in her eyes.

"Does it still seem strange to you?" She mutters, and I nod, before leaning in to kiss her. My lips touch hers, and I am reminded once more of how they seem to have copied the properties of velvet so serenely. She draws away, her lips parted, hovering over mine, and I nudge forward, kissing her again, and again until I draw her tongue out of hiding.

She sighs against me, and pulls me closer to her, her hands wrapped around me waist. I smile into her lips, and press mine against her once more, before swiftly moving to her neck, brushing them against her soft skin. I feel her heart hammering beside mine, and I press my hand against it, feeling it beat to the rhythm of her breathing. I entwine my hands in her fair hair, and she stiffens slightly, moving away from me.

"No, not now. Later." She mutters, and pulls away, moving once more to the nodding, mocking heads of the white lilies.


	2. Moonlit Azure

I lay back against the reclining chair, resting my embroidery against my skirts wearily. The sun has been beating heavily upon my brow all of the day, as I have sat and watched Sue tend her garden busily. My heart quickens as I remember how beautiful she looked, bathed in the sun's last evening rays, and I sigh, resting my head against the arm rest. I feel myself growing drowsy, and drop the embroidery to the floor, feeling suddenly tired.

The last of the sun's light fades from the sky, and the room grows darker, as I fall into a half drowse. Residing in London has done little for my sleeping pattern, and as such, I often find it difficult to sleep at night, only content on the nights when Sue deigns to join me in the bedchamber. Often times, she choose to fall asleep by the fire, falling susceptible to the effects of exhaustion far easier than I.

I pull myself up reluctantly from the comfort of the seat, drawing my skirts about me as I step up. The material folds around my hands, and yet again, I marvel at the beauty of the silk. Despite my having been gone for so long from the country, the high fashion of London's ladies still astounds me. I had gotten so used to wearing fashion meant for children, formed from the softest cottons, and wools, that the silks are alien to me, cool and light against my skin.

I tread lightly across the room, glancing out of the doors at the figure still stood outside, now perched against the wall of a small pond that resides in the corner. I pause, and as I watched, I see her lift her head, her eyes searching the skies for the first of the oncoming stars. Smiling, I watch as her face lights up, screwing up in a fashion that I know means she is wishing. Wishing for what, however, is a different matter, and I shrug the thoughts off, slipping silently through the doors to the bedchamber, my head feeling light, buoyant.

As I remove a necklace from about my neck, I hear her enter the room behind me, and I stiffen slightly as pale hands slip gently around my waist, breath tickling against my ear as Sue leans in to me, brushing a finger against my collarbone as she pulls me closer. I smile, kissing her jaw tenderly before pulling away, placing the golden chain carefully upon its stand. She laughs softly, and I feel the skin on the back of my neck rise slightly at the sound, its cadence sweet, mysterious.

As I move to remove my chemise, a light, coral coloured thing, a pair of hands rests on my own, and I flush slightly as my hands are pushed away, moving to finish the job I started. My tight lacing is loosened, and the corset removed gently. The pale slip of material follows, and as I watch my chemise land lightly upon the floor at my feet, my skin flushes. Hands brush against my throat once more, this time removing my brassiere, which follows the corset and chemise to the rug.

I aid Sue in her attempts, pushing my petticoats and bustle down, to step out of them, feeling suddenly very vulnerable as I stand before her, my back exposed fully as light hands stroke against my skin, trailing fingers against my shoulder blades gently.

My breath catches in my throat as I hear her removing her own clothing, but as I turn to help her, she pushes me away, laughing softly under her breath as I growl in protest. The soft sound of cloth landing on the floor catches my attention, and I cast my eye down to see how far she has reached. Her clothes lay on the floor beside mine, and I smile softly, before turning, slowly so as to avoid being pushed once more, to gaze at her, stood finally before me, her own vulnerability evident.

"Sue…" I breathe softly, and move closer, trailing my fingertips across her shoulders in wonder. Sue's skin never ceases to amaze me; it is so pale, so soft. I look momentarily sadly at the faint scars from her time in the mental asylum, and place a kiss gently to them as I wrap my arms around her, placing my palms against her back carefully. She follows suit, and I lean to her neck, kissing playfully up the skin, tongue darting out to the sensitive points; her jugular, and where her earlobe meets the side of her neck.

Her breath hitches as I nip lightly at her ear, and she turns to face me, catching my jaw in her fingers, pushing me to face her. Leaning in, her lips lands softly on my own, and my eyes close automatically as I breathe in her scent; lilies surround her, mixed with the slightest hint of soil, and ink.

Lips moving together, she pushes me backwards, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. Her lips are soft, slightly open as she leans me backwards, placing herself above me, her knees straddled either side of my waist. I feel my heart quicken as she presses against me, her bosom soft against my own. Her warmth presses against me, and I shift beneath her so that I am laid fully on the bed, our legs entangled as she falls beside me, her hair shining in the rising moonlight. She kisses my cheek softly, suddenly shy, and I rest my hand gently against hers. She smiles slowly, and takes my hand between her own, kissing it gently, and I feel my heart fluttering madly. Her skin is so smooth in the light filtering through the windows, I long to kiss her again. Looking at her for the easiest option, I observe her pale neck, flowing, strangely unmarked, to her chest. I incline my face, and press soft kisses to her breasts, feeling her own heart beating beneath my lips. She gasps, and sinks back to the bed as I flip us over, trailing my fingers delicately down her rib cage, her sides, as I tug at her breasts with my tongue and my teeth, teasing her as I feel her purring beneath me.

"Maud…" She whispers, hissing as I brush my tongue lightly against her. I blink, looking up at her as she lays, at my perfect mercy, upon the soft down pillows. Her eyes are half closed, lips parted and slightly damn. Her hair has fallen from its pins, and falls in front of her eyes. My heart beats quickly, and I fear that it will run from my breast is I do not calm in.

Instead, however, I lean down, kissing further and further, the soft hair covering her body tickling my lips slightly. I smile, and brush my nose across her abdomen, drawing a gasp from her quietly.

I look at her, and she mutters something unintelligible, and I strain to hear her.

"I love you." She mutters again, and I close my eyes, feeling so at peace, it is almost strange.

I pull myself back up to her, drawing her lips to my own. My heart quickens as I kiss her, nipping lightly at her lips, and my breath follows suit. As my hand trails downwards towards her commodity, she sighs, and I tongue her lips gently, pushing them apart to explore within.

As I move my hand, splaying my fingers, she gasps, her eyes still in their half closed daze. Her expression merely causes me to move quicker, my fingers quickening at her core. As I lean in to kiss her once more, she mewls slightly, and I take it as a sign to abate my movements. As she leans back against the bed, she sighs, her breaths escaping her in short pants.

She opens her eyes, almost lazily, staring at me in a strangely innocent way.

"Did I ever tell you, Miss Maud, that you are beautiful?"


End file.
